The thing I love most about a Stephen King adaptation is looking out for the man himself. He doesn’t always show up, but when he does, he leaves his mark. I mean, he’s already a unique looking individual, but what he does on screen just ramps up the unsettling feeling on screen, in his own demented way. In fact, there’s even a drinking game around his appearances.
So while he’s not really the reason us getting the shit scared out of us, he kind of sits with you, long after the credits roll.
Long live the King.